


Five times Peter called Tony "Dad" and one time Tony called Peter "son"

by Blissful_Rain



Series: Spiderling [1]
Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Gen, Hurt Peter, Ice Cream, Injury, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Uncle Rhodey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2018-12-13 05:43:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11753256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blissful_Rain/pseuds/Blissful_Rain
Summary: Peter keeps calling Tony 'dad' without realising it. Luckily Tony doesn't seem to mind being a dad, if their adventures are anything to go by.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first FanFiction, comments will be appreciated.  
> Enjoy :)

Five times peter called Tony dad, and one time Tony call Peter ‘son.’

1.

Peter’s day was ruined. 

It wasn’t so bad at first. Actually, it started out as a great day.   
Aunt May made him some pancakes for breakfast, which were really, really good. He ate a good three, solid plates before he was full.   
For once, he didn’t nearly miss the bus, which was cool. He even got his chemistry test back, and scored 98%! Who would have thought that with all the vigilante stuff that he would have time to study for anything?   
Which leads us to now.  
You know, being shot at by some wacko with a gun, roughly a thousand feet above ground. The usual.   
He really should have listened to Ned. 

Earlier that day

The library was nearly empty, creating a peaceful area to do homework. It was the best time to be there, no football players to annoy them or to many people to overhear private conversations. And he’s had way to many close calls to be doing homework with Ned in a crowded place.   
Maybe Ned won’t risk it this time?   
“So… What’s knowing Tony Stark like?”   
Guess not.   
Sighing, Peter closed his calculus book. Ned probably wasn’t going to let him continue his homework without answers.   
“Ned, I thought we agreed we don’t talk about this stuff at school?”   
After that time when Ned blurted out that Peter knew Spiderman in front of everybody, the subject became strictly private. Except Ned conveniently forgets every time.   
“Yeah, I know. But what’s his suit like? Have you slept over at his house?”   
“Ned…”  
Ned stared at him with large, disturbing, puppy eyes. He wasn’t going to break. Not this time!   
“Please peter?”  
Still staring. Okay, it’s getting creepy.   
Don't do it Peter.   
Don’t let Ned convince you.   
It's just creepy staring.  
“OK! Ok! Just stop staring at me!”   
Ned grinned happily, while Peter felt like he dug himself a hole.   
“Does Mr Stark ever-“  
VRRRRRHHH  
Peters phone vibrated.   
They both ignored it.   
“-hang out with you outside of missions-“  
VRRRRRHHH  
It vibrated again.   
“-and play board games or something?”   
Board games? What?  
“Er, no.” Peter said.   
“Mr Stark doesn’t play board games with me, but sometimes we work together in his lab.” Peter offered eventually.   
Being in the lab with Mr Stark was nice, really nice. Sometimes they talk the whole time. About Aunt May, Spider man, food, school… anything really. But other times they work in silence. They might not talk, but they don’ t really need words to communicate. Peter passes a screwdriver; Tony puts a hand on Peters shoulder. It’s comforting, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything. Its almost like Mr Stark is his da- nope. Not going there.   
Ned’s eyes light up with excitement as a grin threatens to split his face in half.  
“Whoa! That’s awesome!” he exclaims, he’s practically vibrating with excitement. Both of them used to be massive fans, not that Peter will ever tell Tony that (or show him his Ironman shirt).   
VRRRRRHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!  
The phone once again vibrated.   
Hmmm, maybe he should check that. 

Peter pulls his phone out of his pocket and checks the notifications, he pulls a face.   
It doesn’t look good.   
Ned watches Peter in concern, usually when he got a notification from his phone he gets hurt.   
“What is it?” he questions.  
Peter brushes his hair back and gives a small smile.   
“There’s some kind of crazy guy stealing from a bank, he’s armed.”  
He had Ned hook his phone up to the police network so it would alert him when something serious happened. Something like a man robbing a bank.   
“I don’t know Peter, maybe you shouldn’t do this one? There is the police you know, and its raining.” Ned frowns. The Vulture made Ned realise that the risk of Peter getting hurt was real, Spiderman was not just a game.   
Peter stands up and shoves his phone into his pocket.  
“Ned, I can do this! Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” Peter says reassuringly. He sounded braver than he felt.   
He places his book into his back, and starts walking to the exit.   
“Besides, Karen’s got my back.”  
And boy would he be in trouble with out her. 

 

5 minuets later Peter was swinging through the streets of New York, dressed in his Spider-Man suit.   
Or at least he was trying to swing. Rain apparently didn’t agree with his webs.  
He should probably make his webs water proof.   
He found that his webs hit the buildings, and hung on for five seconds max before the water washed them off, it made it tricky to move quickly. He already slipped a few times, luckily no one saw him. That would have been embarrassing,   
Peter swung onto the side of a building and surveyed his surroundings, or at least what he could see. Stupid rain.   
“Karen, where’s the bank?” Peter asked eventually.   
A map of New York appeared across his lens, showing where to go from where he is to the bank.   
“Swing right, then go approximately 300 meters until you reach your destination on the left,” she answered. Peter smiled in underneath his mask, it's nice to have somebody to rely on, even if it's just an A.I.   
“Right, thanks Karen!”   
Having an AI was seriously the best thing ever. The amount of times he had gotten lost trying to find the crime scene was ridiculous, and quite degrading.   
‘Spiderman gets lost’, what a headline. The Daily Bugle would have a field day.   
Through the rain he spots the alarm lights coming from the bank, and a few police cars parked out the front.  
Bingo.   
Step one, sneak in without anybody noticing.   
Stealthily, Peter lands besides the building and starts crawling on top of the ceiling.   
Already his spidey sense was tingling, indicating that danger was near by.   
Huh, maybe this will be a tough one.   
“-we’re gonna be rich!”   
So there’s more than one. Peter crawled closer to the talking, which he could hear because of his enhanced hearing.   
“Karen,” Peter whispered, “give me the details.”  
After a few fights Peter had learnt that its better to go into a situation prepared, he had a few scars to prove it too.   
Karen x-rayed the wall to reveal 3 men stuffing cash into large bags.   
“There are three men sharing an assault gun, each of the men carry multiple knives.”   
Fantastic; a gun. He might have to do some acrobatics.   
“It would be advisable to proceed with caution,” warned Karen.   
Peter nodded half-heartedly.   
“We’ll see,” and jumped down from the ceiling.   
\--   
“Hey guys! That’s a lot of money your withdrawing!” Peter commented. He waved cheerily, and casually leaned against the wall.   
Startled, the men spun around and dropped their money bags.   
“Spiderman!” they snarled, each of them pulling a knife out.   
“What, aren’t you happy to see me?” Peter pretended to be hurt with a hand over his heart. .   
He probably shouldn't rile them up, but Mr Stark does it too, so it's okay.   
Then men (Dubbed grizzle, moustache and mono-brow, after their lovely features) aggressively cracked their knuckles and took a fighting stance.   
“Get him boys!” Mono-brow barked at grizzle and moustache. At once, the men sprung into action and attempted to stab Peter.   
Expertly dodging the ark of a knife, and twisting out the way of another, Peter round house kicked mono-brow in the face with lethal grace.   
Mono brow flew into a wall with enough force to crack an ordinary mans ribs. Peter punched grizzle in the nose, who fell to the ground unconscious.   
Moustache and mono brow froze at the sight their fallen gang member, but quickly resumed the robbery.   
“Grab the money and get to the roof!” Mono-brow yelled at moustache.   
Moustache ran over to a stair case, two bags packed with money slung over his back.   
“Hey! Get back here!’ Peter called after him. People can’t just steal money!  
While moustache was getting away, mono brow launched himself at Peter with his knife raised, ready to stab. He didn't get far, as Peter just webbed him to the wall. No time to loose, Peter dashed up the stair case and stoped dead.   
There was a helicopter on the roof.   
And it was about to take off. 

Darn it. 

The helicopter was whirring, the propellers spinning faster than an eye can see. It started to lift off, but before it could get out of reach Peter sprang into the air and grabbed a hold of the railing.  
By the time moustache realised he was onboard, he was 50m above the ground.   
Moustache looked out the window and widened his eyes when he saw him.   
“Mike, fly higher! Spiderman’s on board, and I know just what to do!” Peter heard.   
The rain whipped through the air, biting Peter’s skin. It was hard to see in the rain, he should probably fix that too.   
The helicopter rose into the air higher and higher, shaking slightly from the wind.   
It was a long drop.  
The door was opened by moustache, he had the gun.   
“Peter, this situation is getting dangerous,” Karen informed him. If an AI could sound worried, this would be it.   
Peter rolled his eyes.  
“Gee thanks Karen, I didn’t notice.”   
BANG  
One bullet dodged, narrowly missing his arm. Peter swung to the left of the rail, trying to stay out of firing range. If he could just angle himself so he could shoot his web…  
BANG  
Peter barley managed to move out of the way from a bullet that would have been fatal.   
“Activating protocol 12, calling Mr Stark.”   
Peter’s eyes widened. He didn’t need help, and he didn’t want Mr Stark to think he’s weak!   
BANG  
Another near miss.   
“Karen, no!”   
“Sorry peter; you are too high above the ground and need you assistance,” the AI informed him.   
He really should have listened to Ned and stayed in the library.   
BANG  
Pain flared in Peter right shoulder, he had been hit.   
“Injury detected.”   
At this point, Peter was getting nervous. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hang on. The rain and his shoulder weren’t helping either.   
BANG   
A bullet hit the rail just beside his left hand, and in surprise, he let go. 

 

He was falling. The wind rushed around his face, whistling in his ears and deadening him. He couldn’t tell which was way up or down , and he couldn’t tell if he was going to die tonight.   
Falling felt different to web slinging, he didn’t have control. It was fast, impossibly fast. When he was web slinging he felt free, but now, now he felt trapped.   
Bile rose up from the pit of his stomach as he imagined himself hitting the pavement with a sickening splat. Red would bloom from his suit, coating the street in crimson.   
He would never see Aunt May or Ned again, and ell the, how sorry he is was dying.   
He never thought he would die like this.   
Nothing could be heard above the wind, nothing could be seen through his fogged lens. He just hoped he wouldn’t see his end.   
Distantly he was aware of Karen yelling something he couldn’t quite make out, but he guessed it didn’t matter anymore.   
There was a sound, could it be…?   
Suddenly strong arms wrapped around his armpits and pulled. He stoped spiralling downwards, and was forced upwards instead. The change in velocity left his stomach behind.   
It was Ironman.   
Relief washed over Peter as the realisation that he wasn’t going to die set in. All he could do was flop into the metal arms and hang on tight.   
Heat flushed Peter’s skin as he realised that Ironman was holding him bridal style.   
Oh my god, he was never going to live this down!   
And to make it worse, the robber got away! Were did they even get the helicopter from…?   
Tony landed smoothly on top of the tower, the armour flying off his body into some unknown place.   
Peter jumped out of his arms and smiled.  
“Thanks-“ Peter started to say, but stoped when he saw Tony’s stony face.  
“Mr Stark?” Peter asked cautiously.   
Tony was glaring at Peter, jaw set. He grabbed Peters arm and dragged him inside the elevator and aggressively pushed the button that lead to his floor.   
It was an awkward ride.  
“Mr Stark, I’m sorry if I bothered you, I didn’t mean it, honest!”  
What’s wrong with him? He hoped he didn’t offend Mr Stark by stuffing up, because it was once!  
Well, if you didn’t count the ferry or the vulture.   
Tony pulled Peter down onto a nearby chair.   
“Sit.” Tony demanded.   
He stared hard at Peter with his arms crossed, gaze set like stone. He definitely wasn’t happy.   
“FRIDAY, scan for injuries.” Tony said to the ceiling.   
Abruptly a light from the ceiling scanned Peter, casting a red glow over his pale features, then stoped after it covered his body thrice.   
“Master Parker has a gunshot would on his right shoulder and a minor laceration on his abdomen,” the AI replied.   
Tony sucked in a breath of air and looked at the ceiling heavily. Peter squirmed in his seat, knowing very well that he is defiantly in trouble. 

“Peter, what did you think you were doing?” 

And there it is, the yelling.   
I have to fix this! Peter thought desperately. He can’t loose this relationship with Mr Stark, he just can’t handle someone else leaving him, not again.   
“Mr Stark, I’m so sorry! I was trying to get the robbers but they got away!” Peter blurted out. He stared at Tony mournfully, fearing that Tony would turn him away. That Peter wouldn't be worth it anymore.   
“No Peter, what were you doing then?” Tony said quietly. He might have sounded soft, but Peter knew that it his anger was just beneath the surface.   
“Er-falling?” Peter said cautiously, curling into his seat further,   
“Exactly! You were falling! You nearly died!” Tony shouted, throwing his arms into the air in anger.   
Oh, he means that Peter isn't good enough. He has to try harder.   
“Do you know how worried I was when I got an emergency call from Karen? Do you? No, because you were to busy going off without thinking!”  
Tony was breathing in heavy, ragged breathes, pulling at his hair in stress.   
“What?” He didn’t understand what he meant anymore. What was amr Stark so angry about?   
Turns out that was the wrong thing to say.   
“Sorry? Your sorry?! You nearly died, Peter!?” Tony’s voice cracked at the end, choked with emotion. Tony furiously wiped his eye, refusing to allow his tears to flow.   
Peter remained silent.   
“I nearly lost you-“  
“Mr Stark.“  
“-banned from Spiderman for a week-“  
“Mr Stark!“  
“-you need to call me before this happens-“   
“DAD!”   
They both fall silent. Peter meets Tonys eyes, sharing a deep, unspoken connection. The fight was over, now they heal.   
Tony looked at Peter, eyes shining from the tears in his eyes.  
“Come here,” Tony murmured, and swept Peter into a hug.   
They stayed like that for a while, just holding each other. It was healing, soothing to his soul. Tony still cared, and that's all that mattered. It was a while before they pulled apart, but only because they remembered Peter sorta had a gunshot would that needed to be treated.   
“Just don’t do that again, ok?”   
Peter nodded, smiling. Tony ruffled his hair, then gently leading him towards the infirmary.   
“You better not bleed on my carpet,” Tony teased.   
Peter laughed quietly, even if that jolted his shoulder. Some things were worth a bit of pain though.   
“Nah, I already got blood on your shirt.”   
Tony looked down in surprise.   
“So you did. Let's walk a bit faster, hey?”   
Neither of them mentioned how Peter called him dad.


	2. Sleepy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Peter work late in the garage, resulting in a sleepy Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
> I will try update once a week, depending on what comes up.   
> Enjoy :)

Tony wiped the sweat of his brow, smearing grease all over his face. His clothes weren’t much better, the once grey shirt looked nearly black. The funny thing was that Peter looked just as messy as he did, grease stains and all.   
Working in the garage together was completely normal for them. It happened every Saturday, if Peter had no homework that is. In the garage they upgraded cars together, working tirelessly for hours on end. The kids a natural, just like him.   
Other times they worked in the labs. Together they upgraded Peter’s Spiderman suit (the lens are now anti-fog and the web are water proof, thank god).  
Today they had been redesigning a cars engine, while Tony worked under the car Peter worked at the top. ACDC had been playing quietly in the background, filling the silence as the two worked

“Hey Pete, pass me the spanner would you?” Tony asked absent-mindedly. He finished screwing in a bolt, and held out his hand expectantly.   
A few seconds passed, and Tony felt a flash of worry. Why wasn’t he answering?  
“Peter?”   
Tony rolled out from underneath the car and scanned the room in search of his wayward apprentice.   
He couldn’t help the feeling of relief when he found him, or the smile finding its way onto his lips. To be fair, Peter did look completely and utterly adorable.   
He was slouched against the worktable, dozing gently. His hair covered his eyes, which made him look so much like a child. 

Gently, Tony prodded Peter’s shoulders. In response, Peter groaned and shuffled away.  
Teenagers, so typical.   
“FRIDAY?” Tony called, “How long have we been down here for?”  
Immediately a robotic voice answered from the ceiling.   
“Nearly six hours, sir.” 

Whoops, guess he forgot the time. 

Usually it’s just himself he has to worry about, he could work all day and night if he wanted to. Having the kid with him is a new experience, he’s still getting used to looking out for him.   
Again, Tony gently prodded Peter, this time though, he stirred.   
“Mr Stark?” he mumbled sleepily, blinking blearily. Peter groaned and wiggled further into the table, away from the Tony. 

He should probably go to bed, like people do when they’re tired. Well, as normal as you can get when you’ve been bitten by a genetically modified spider and fight crime as a hobby.   
“Come on underoos, time for bed,” Tony prompted. Slowly Peter dragged his head up to meet Tony’s eyes, looking adorably confused.   
“Wha…” Peter groaned. He rubbed his eyes sleepily, smearing grease from his hand all over his face. Now he looks cute and ridiculous.   
“Time for you to go to bed, your just about falling off your chair.”   
Peter was in fact, half way off his chair. It’s a wonder he hasn’t fallen yet.   
Peter looked like a puppy, Tony thought amusedly. You know when a puppy gets all sleepy and flops where ever, looking utterly adorable? That’s Peter all over, although he should probably go sleep in a bed instead of a garage.   
Tony couldn’t help but snort, the mental imagery was too funny.   
“Come on Spider Puppy,” Tony joked, “do I need to dangle a fly in front of you?”   
Peter looked at him funny and shook his head.   
“Spider Puppy?” Peter questioned, combing his fingers through his hair.   
For a moment, neither of them did anything but stare at each other, Tony in amusement and Peter in confusion.   
Tony nodded his head. “I think we’re done here,” he said, gesturing to the car.   
Abruptly Peter shot up from his chair, wide chocolate eyes wide with dismay.   
“Mr. Stark- I fell asleep! I’m sorry!” he fretted, fiddling with his sleeve nervously. Peter looked at him pleadingly, begging him silently to not leave.   
Tony took a mental step back, having absolutely no idea why Peter was like a student who failed his- oh.   
Tony looked Peter dead in the eye.  
“Peter,” he said gently, “it’s ok. I should have checked the time anyways, we’ve been down here for hours.”  
Peter nodded his head slightly, but still looked unsure.  
“Still shouldn’t have fallen asleep,” he mumbled timidly.   
Tony offered a small smile.  
“Come on Underoos, let’s get you into bed.”

 

The ride up the elevator was in a comfortable silence. Tony stood casually, while Peter was glued to his side, just like a Spider Puppy. 

Peter, he thought, is part of him that he can never take away. He’s found himself caring for a teenager he basically picked of the streets, and feeling like a father towards him. It’s new, and it’s scary.   
Lets face it. Him, as a father? Peter might end up dead because of hm.   
There are very few people in his life that he trusts, Pepper and Rhodey among them. Not only does he trust Peter, Peter completely trusts Tony back, hanging onto his every word. It’s a big responsibility to have someone trust him to that extend, and he doesn’t know if he’s ready for it. 

It’s funny how his life has changed. A year ago, he probably would have been tinkering in the lab over a glass of scotch until Tomorrows midnight, drowning his sorrows. Now that Peter’s here, he doesn’t feel the need to get drunk anymore. Peter just feels more important than that.   
When Peter fell out of that plane, he just about had a heart attack. It took a while to realize why he felt like that, when he did he realized that if he lost Peter, he might lose a piece of himself along with him.   
Peter isn’t just a hero he helps out anymore; Peters became a part of his life, permanently.   
Tony inconspicuously looked over at Peter, taking in everything about him. The grease, brown doe eyes, and geeky shirt… he’s so much like Tony that it’s crazy. Peter’s just a bit more innocent and naïve then he is.   
And Tony defiantly doesn’t fall asleep in the elevator.   
“FRIDAY?” Tony muttered, “Tell me the time next time.”   
A sleepy teenager was a handful, even if they were precious.   
FRIDAY almost seemed smug when she said, “Of coarse, sir.”  
It’s like every AI he builds likes to tease him, honestly. Sleepy teenagers sure are a great joke, except when you’re the one who has to deal with them.   
At last the elevator stopped at his personal floor, the penthouse. It was lavishly decorated, adorned with a huge kitchen (which he has rarely uses), spa bathes and a giant TV. And a bar, lets not forget.   
However it was his bedroom he was after. He wont let Peter sleep on the lounge, and his bedroom wasn’t finished yet.   
He just had to get Peter there first.

For what felt like the millionth time that day, Tony nudged Peter awake. Blearily, Peter opened his eyes and blinked slowly.   
“Mr. Stark?” Peter slurred, “Did I fall asleep again?”   
Peter leaned against the elevator wall, to tried to stand on his own. 

How long has Peter been without sleep for?

“Peter,” asked Tony seriously, “how many hours sleep have you had?”   
Peter took a moment to think, casting eyes towards the ceiling.   
“Oh, sleep? Around three?” He replied nervously, sending a guilty smile Tony’s way. Unfortunately for him, Tony felt absolutely zero sympathy. In fact, Tony felt quieted the opposite, which was frustration. Did he hack Karen again to miss curfew? Better not have, or he’ll use Peter’s webs and stick him to the celling.   
“And why,” Tony growled, “Have you not being sleeping?”   
Sleep for a teenager was vital, he can’t just ditch it! Tony might not be the best example, but he’s learnt from his mistakes. The same mistake which Peter might be making.   
Peter looked at him nervously as he combed his fingers through his hair.   
“It's not like I don’t want to sleep,” he admitted, “it’s more like I can't.”  
Worry immediately assaulted Tony from the pit of his stomach.   
“Why?” He demanded, both hands on Peters shoulders. For a moment they stared at each other, not knowing exactly what to do. Peter studied his shoes intently, suddenly finding his shoelaces very interesting.   
“I- I have nightmares.” He confessed anxiously, lifting his head to stare soulfully into Tony’s eyes.   
Immediately Tony’s eyes softened in understanding. He knew all about nightmares, he’s had them for years. He used at have them about Afghanistan (still does, although he won't admit it), sometimes has nightmares about the wormhole the incident. His worst nightmares though, would have to be about Peter. Not Peter as a person, but Peter getting hurt or killed because of him. He always wakes up from those dreams panicked and has to get a report on peter’s vitals just to feel calm again.   
The elevator, Tony decided, is not the place to have this conversation. Touchy feelings are a lounge room thing, as far as he knew anyway. It’s not like he had a huge amount of experience with comforting people.   
Tony clasped Peters arm and led him gently down the hall towards the lounge room, then settled on comfy, black lounge. Peter looked at him shyly.   
“Your- your not mad? You don’t think I’m weak?” Peter stuttered shyly, anxiously fiddling with the hem of his sleeve.   
Poor kid, he must think that having nightmares makes him weak and unworthy. He will just have to tell him otherwise.   
Tony remained perfectly calm, “No Peter, I don't think your weak. Your one of the strongest people that I know.”   
In the next second, he had an arm full of a crying, sleep-deprived teenager. Peter burrowed his head into Tony's chest, head resting against his ark reactor. Feeling bewildered, Tony secured his arms around Peter and held him there.   
“It’s okay Peter,” he murmured, “your safe here.”   
Peter just cried harder, clinging onto Tony’s shirt like a lifeline.   
“Mr Stark, I’m sorry! I messed up and I’m dumping all of this onto you-“ Peter rambled, mortified at how he broke down in front of his idol, confessed he had nightmares and soaked Tony’s shirt with his tears (which was probably really expensive.)  
Tony cut Peter off from his monologue with a firm hand on his shoulder, “Peter, its fine.”   
Peter looked unsure, but ceased him rambling and stopped talking anyway. 

Tony took a deep breath. 

“Now tell me about your nightmares, it’ll help.” He assured.   
Peter looked at him with doubtful eyes.  
“You sure?” He asked quietly.   
Tony hummed for a moment, and then shook his head.   
“No, I’m not. Nightmares never really go away. But they get better.” Tony gave Peter an awkward side-hug, hoping to give some form of comfort. It's not healthy to bottle up emotions, and Tony knows that all to well.   
It’s weird to think he the comforter now, after a lifetime of either been the comforted or completely the one to make situations worse.   
But now he has to listen.   
Quietly, Peter tells him.   
“You know that night I defeated the Vulture?” he asked tentatively. Tony nodded, for it was a night he could never forget. He nearly lost peter that night, and it would have been his entire fault. The thought still sent an icy shiver down his spine.   
Peter stared off into space, lost in a memory. He took a moment before he started speaking again.   
“I-I was tr-trapped under a building for a while,” Peter whispered, eyes dark with emotion. Peter stared at the floor.  
“It was dark, I couldn’t move...”   
Tony felt cold creep over his body, and shut his eyes tightly. It was like Afghanistan.   
“When I try sleep, I wake feeling like the sheets are slabs of concrete and I’m being crushed,” Peter said, sounding more childlike then ever.   
Tony felt so stupid. It wad been weeks and weeks since the Vulture, how could he not have noticed that Peter was having nightmares? If only he didn’t ignore him, then this might never have happened.   
“It’s not your fault, Mr. Stark,” Peter sweared firmly, “It’s really not.”  
Tony let out a humorless laugh. If only he could believe that.   
“Sure kid,” he muttered, “it’s not like I took your suit away or anything.”  
How could he have done that!? It was so stupid, and it nearly cost Peter his life. Guilt churned in his stomach like a stormy ocean.   
He was wrong; he should never have taken the suit. Peter is everything with and without the suit. Everything he could never be.   
“But you gave it back,” Peter reassured, “and gave me so much more.”  
Tony couldn’t resist smiling, no matter the situation; Peter always found the ray of sunshine.   
“Look at you, being all mushy, I’m supposed to be comforting you,” Tony pointed out jokingly.   
Peter smiled, and laughed back his tears.   
“Yeah,” he replied.  
Tony stood up, “Come on, you need to sleep.”  
A brief flash of fear crossed Peters face, but it left as quickly as it came. But tonight, Peter wouldn’t going to have a nightmare, Tony was sure of it.   
“Okay, do I sleep on the lounge?” he asked, looking around for where he should sleep.   
Tony pulled a face.   
“Really, you think I would let you sleep on a lounge?” he said in disgust. He’s Tony Stark! Nobody sleeps on a lounge in his tower. Especially not Peter, he deserves better than that.   
“…Maybe?” he answered unsurely, rubbing his arm nervously. Peter was basically the embodiment of humbleness; he didn’t believe that he should take up a bedroom when there was a lounge right there. Luckily, Tony’s got him covered.   
Tony tisked, and dragged Peter down the hall to his bedroom.   
“You can sleep in here,” Tony stated, gesturing to his lavish bedroom. A second passed, and Tony saw the uncertainty on Peters face. He made a note to make Peters room a bit simpler, less billionaire looking.   
“It’s okay, I’m not ready to sleep anyway,” Tony assured Peter when he started backing out of the room. He lead him towards the king sized bed, and pushed him onto the silken sheets. It didn’t bother him that Peter was filthy, and still had his shoes on. That can be fixed in the morning. 

“Now sleep,” Tony ordered. Peter stared up at him with tired eyes.   
“Your sure?” he asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes.   
Tony tenderly smoothed down Peters hair and pulled the blankets tight around Peters sleepy form.   
“I’m sure, no nightmare’s. Not with Ironman watching over you,” Tony said softly.   
“K,” he mumbled sleepily. Tony felt his heart warm at the sight of Peter relaxing, looking so much smaller and cuter than usual (which is a feat). Juts like an grease covered Spider puppy.   
“Good night Peter,” he whispered as he shut the door.   
Before the door was fully closed, he heard Peter mumble “Night dad.”  
Tony hadn’t felt so warm in a long time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this chapter, I took a recommendation.   
> Let me now what you think!

“Thanks for picking me up, Happy!” Peter grinned cheerily. From the driver’s seat of the car, Happy grunted in response.   
Like usual.   
Guess you can’t be overly happy about chauffeuring a teenager around. Happy might not seem like he likes him, but he’s sure deep, deep down Happy cares.   
Hopefully.   
Peter pulled at the handle of the car since it has has stopped moving. It's one of the more expensive cars Mr. Stark owns, probably pricier than his and aunt Mays entire apartment. The car did attract some unwanted attention (Cough *Flash* cough, he will never forget his slack jawed face), but riding in the car was worth it. It purrs like a kitten, and is extremely maneuverable. Probably why Happy choose to drive it.   
Today was one of those days that Happy picked him up from school to take him to Stark tower, where he will probably do some engineering with Mr Stark. This time though, he will not fall asleep.   
He’s has enough embarrassment to last him a lifetime.   
Stark tower rose up into the sky and just about disappeared into the clouds. He has climbed it as Spider-Man loads of times, but to look up at it… it’s a completely different feeling. You feel smaller, and a lot less significant. Lucky for him he knows this is one of the safest places he could ever be. Mr Stark would always protect him, Peter knows that much. 

Happy's voice broke him out of his musing.   
“Kid’, he said, “you’ve been staring out the window for two minuets. You gonna move yet?” Happy turned to stare at him, face masked in a bored expression.   
“Oh sorry!” Peter blushed. Had he really been standing there for that long?   
Happy sighed, “Yeah, you have.”   
Whoops, he must of said that out loud.   
“And you also said that out loud.” Happy rolled his eyes, causing Peter to blush even harder. No wonder Happy gets annoyed with him if he can’t even think to himself. 

Peter swung the door open and jumped outside with all the speed his spider powers. He landed perfectly, making him feel giddy. His powers still amazed him each time he used them, he doesn’t know if he will ever be used to them.   
Peter turned towards the tower and started walking away from the car.   
“Peter,” he heard Happy say, “Stay safe.”   
He stopped walking and turned to look at Happy. An uncharacteristically soft look was on his face, conveying his sincerity. He knew Happy cared!  
“I’ll try!” He promised, grinning from ear to ear. He probably looked a little crazy, but the main thing was Happy cared. Who knew that under all of those hard stares he had a soft spot? Mr Stark, probably, he must have hired him for reason. 

Peter closed the door and took a step back, allowing Happy to drive away without hitting him. Not that he would get hit anyways, he has powers! If he did get hit, it would be more embarrassing than falling asleep in the elevator. Now all he has to do is go inside.   
The walk into Stark tower was uneventful, all the employees know him by name with the amount of times he’s came through. The receptionist didn’t even bat and eye as he walked past her into the elevator. Usually, a person has to get a clearance check. Peter has the golden ticket of Stark Tower; he can go on most floors without restriction. He wouldn’t though; Aunt May taught him that snooping was rude.   
The elevator had no buttons, not that you would need any. It both confused and amazed him the first time he used the elevator, Mr Stark said he had hearts in his eyes when he heard FRIDAY speak. 

Speaking of FRIDAY…  
“Hello Mr Parker. What floor would you like to visit today?” The AI asked politely, the doors of the elevator closing. Peter looked around awkwardly (he had no idea where to look at) and tousled his hair.   
“Hi FRIDAY. Mr Starks floor please, if you wouldn’t mind.” Mr Stark had teased him relentlessly about how polite he was to the AI, but he thought she (she?) deserved as much respect as any human.   
He wont forget the approving gleam in Mr Starks eyes though.   
“Certainly,” FRIDAY responded.   
In no time at all the elevator had flown up to Mr Starks floor, opening with a quiet ‘ding’. Mr Starks floor looked modern and futuristic, all furniture and appliances designed by him personally. Every thing was linked to FRIDAY, and the whole tower was monitored to. He could talk to Mr Stark about it, if he could find him. 

“FRIDAY, is Mr Stark here?” He asked after a moment, having no idea if he was in another room (or floor). If he wasn’t, he didn’t want to intrude and accidentally mess something up that he wasn’t supposed to.   
He’s done a lot of that lately.   
“No,” the AI replied, “Mr Stark is currently not in the building. Would you like me to call him?”   
Peter pulled a face. “That's all right Friday, I’ll just leave,” he decided. Peter turned around to re-enter the elevator, but the doors slammed shut lightning fast. Peter blinked in surprise.  
Well, that was unexpected.   
“Sorry Mr Parker, but Mr Stark will be here within two hours. I advise you to stay, walking on the streets can be dangerous,” the AI advised.   
Peter couldn’t help but be weirded out, he did get trapped on the floor by an AI after all.  
“Oh-um- okay. I’ll stay,” Peter agreed hesitantly. Peter adjusted his baggy hoody and surveyed his surroundings. 

At least he had his homework. 

————

45 minuets later, English homework was getting old. There’s only a short time you can write about ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ before your brain turns into putty.   
If he had to read one more sentence about Scout or Atticus then he’s going to jump out a window.   
Peter drummed his fingers against the table in boredom. There had to be something he could do, he’s in Stark tower after all! Peter sighed in resignation, then walked over to the window and looked across the skyline, catching all of the little details.   
This, thought Peter, is amazing.   
He’s standing in the Stark tower, looking over thousands of people and is currently on Tony freaking Starks private floor. He might be alone, bored and hungry but hey, if Flash saw him now there would be no more ‘Penis Parker’. Maybe.   
Speaking of being hungry, maybe Mr Stark has some food in the kitchen? Having a superhuman metabolism combined with being a teenage boy and a vigilante really worked up an appetite. 

“Hey FRIDAY?” Peter called out shyly, fiddling with the bottom of his Star Wars hoodie. He didn’t want to impose, but he really was hungry…  
The AI spoke disembodied from the ceiling, “Yes, Mr Parker?”   
“Is there any food I’m allowed to eat?” He asked sheepishly. He feels bad about eating Mr Stark’s food, but some things can’t be helped. You can’t do homework on an empty stomach. 

“There is some ice cream in the freezer that is available,” the AI said, sounding amused. Peter quirked his eyebrows. Ice cream? Not that he was complaining, but he used to think that Mr Stark ate fine dining and had pro chiefs on standby. The first time he saw Mr Stark eating Mac Donald's, or cheap takeaway, he told him to ‘stop staring, your getting weird kid.’

“Thank you FRIDAY,” Peter replied. He walked over to the kitchen and spotted the freezer immediately, not that's it's hard to miss. It’s probably bigger than the fridge and freezer at home combined.   
A rush of cold air made him shudder as he opened the door, it was Antarctic in there. Wisp’s of fog curled out of the door, but the cold couldn't keep a grin spreading across Peters face when he saw how much ice cream was in there. There had to be at least 35 cartons!   
It's a teenage dream.   
Excitedly, Peter examined the flavours. Vanilla, Honey comb, Chocolate, Coconut, Pecan and Maple, Apple pie, pistachio, cookies and cream, coffee, mocha, mint chocolate, salted caramel, rum and raisin, cookie dough, white chocolate raspberry, macadamia …. It's amazing.   
He would never admit it, but when he found his favourite flavour, he let out a squeal of pure happiness. Clutching the carton of boysenberry ice cream close to his chest, he skipped over to the bench to find a spoon so he could devour his treat.   
With a desert spoon in hand, and a litre tub of boysenberry ice cream in arm, he sat on the bench and took the lead off. Gleefully he dug his spoon into the purple desert, eyes bright with joy. He moaned with satisfaction as the fruity goodness caressed his palette.   
It tasted soooo good!

What happened next made his blood run cold, and it wasn’t the ice cream. The elevator went ‘ding’, and a person came out. It defiantly was not Tony Stark. Tony Stark did not ride in a wheel chair.   
‘Tony, you here?” The man called loudly. He rolled into the room slowly, craning his head around the room.   
By some twist of fate, he didn’t look in Peter’s direction.   
But his eyes landed on Peter’s homework.   
Shoot.   
Still frozen, crouching on the bench, spoon halfway into his mouth; Peter stared wide-eyed as the man moved over to his paper. The mans face creased with confusion.  
“To Kill a Mocking bird? What the actual… Tony?” The man called bewilderedly, examining his paper. He swiveled his head around, presumably searching for Tony. He looked into the kitchen, right at the spot where Peter was crouching. 

Whoops, guess he should have moved. 

The mans eyes widened with surprise, then quickly narrowed with suspicion.   
“Who are you? How did you get into this room?” He asked seriously. His hand reached down to his side of the wheel chair, right where a gun was concealed. Peter was surprised he didn’t notice it earlier. 

Double whoops. 

Peter, being the mature teenager he is, slowly put the spoon full of ice cream in his mouth. Eye contact was awkward; the man had a gun while Peter had a tub of ice cream. Peter smiled nervously and gave a small wave.   
“Hi?”   
He must have looked like some kind of idiot, eating ice cream in the face of a gun. Although, one more scoop wouldn't hurt…  
The man looked more confused than ever, maybe even a tad amused.   
“Who are you,” he repeated, more firmly this time. Ok, it's time he started talking.   
“I’m Peter Parker,” Peter said meekly, “Mr Stark said I can go up here, really!”  
Peter’s eyes were wide, and a trail of purple ice cream was running down the side of his mouth. He wiped it off with his sleeve.   
The man looked thoughtful.  
“Peter… Tony’s mentioned a Peter…” he mumbled, searching his thoughts. A grin spread across Peters face before he could stop it, Mr Stark mentioned him! He felt a mix of pride, happiness, and contradictorily, dread. Just who did Me Stark tell? 

Abruptly the mans eyes widened into saucers.   
“You’re the Spider-kid?!” He gaped. Peter shook his head frantically, waving his spoon back and forth in panic.  
“N-no! I’m definitely not Spider man, I’m just Peter, regular old school kid!” he pleaded. Even to his own ears, it sounded like a lost cause. Denying it just made it more believable.   
The man put his head in his hands and moaned.  
“What the hell Tony!” He groaned despairing.   
Peter scooped another jumbo-sized spoonful of ice cream out of the tub compulsively. Even at the risk of exposing his identity, boysenberry ice cream was just to good to pass up.   
“And you are…?” Peter asked through another mouthful of ice cream. Cautiously, he watched the man drag a hand over his face in disbelief. The man might not be holding the gun anymore, but there’s always a chance.   
“Kid,” the man sighs, “the names James Rhodes, call me Rhodey.”

No. 

Freaking.

Way. 

How could he have not noticed?! Access to Mr. Starks floor (without FRIDAY informing him), high tech wheel chair, bionic legs… how could he not have seen it? Mr Stark mentioned that his friend was paralyzed in civil war, who else could get up here?  
Still didn’t save his identity though. 

…

There was a moment before either of them reacted.   
“So you’re the spider kid?” Rhodey questioned, looking Peter up and down.  
Peter blushed, knowing fully well that he did not look like a superhero, but more like a geeky teen.   
“Spider man,” he grumbled, but didn’t deny it.   
Rhodey sucked in a deep breathe of air, “I can’t believe Tony recruited a kid!”   
Peters head shot up indignantly. He was not a kid!  
Rhodey held up his hand before Peter could get a word out.   
“Yes, you are a kid. And what are you doing here?” he asked sceptically, eyeing the tub of ice-cream in Peters hand.   
“Oh, I was going to meet Mr Stark but he wasn’t here and I got hungry so I though he wouldn’t mind if I ate some ice cream and I really hope he doesn’t mind because FRIDAY said it was ok so technically it would be FRIDAY’s fault if he was mad-“ Peter rambled, borderline panicky. His day went from eating ice cream to having his identity compromised in like 2 seconds, of coarse he was feeling nervous.   
Before he could throw up any more word garbage Rhodey cut him off.  
“Kid, I’m sure he wont mind. But boysenberry, really?” he questioned with a raised eyebrow. He wheeled over to the bench and looked expectantly at Peter.   
“What’s wrong with boysenberry?” he asked defensively, hugging the carton close to his chest. Rhodey gave a small smile.  
“Nothing, just it can’t beat Choc Mint,” he quipped. Rhodey rolled to the freezer and pulled out a tub of ice cream, choc mint, and dug a spoon out of a draw.   
“Huh?”   
This was not what Peter was expecting. To be told off, lectured, or even yelled at for been Spider Man yes, but to casually eat ice-cream with a military man? It hadn’t even crossed his mind.   
“Kid, Tony’s obviously keeping you around for a reason, and I respect that. Thought I might just keep you company while you wait for him,” he offered.   
Taking a scoop of his own ice cream, Rhodey continued talking.   
“I haven’t meet anybody who like boysenberry before. Tony’s a cookie dough fan, while Pepper prefers macadamia.”   
Strangely, Rhodey telling Peter about ice cream relaxed him. He didn’t feel as panicked anymore, and he wasn’t fretting over his identity. 

Ice cream really is a super hero. 

“So, I gather the ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ paper is yours?” Rhodey asked.  
Peter nodded moodily at the tough of the novel, “Yeah, but I stoped for ice-cream,”   
It wasn’t a very smart decision (the paper was due the next day), but hey, who even reads that book? It’s terrible!  
“Thought so. I knew Tony wouldn’t touch that with a ten foot pole,” he joked. Ice cream tub in his lap, Rhodey wheeled over to the table.  
“Luckily for you I quiet enjoyed it. Want some help with it?” he offered.  
Gosh yes!   
Gracefully, Peter leapt off the bench and followed him. He could use a bit of help.  
“If its okay with you,” he agreed, trying not to seem to eager. He already looked like a kid; he didn’t need to look more like one.  
“It’s fine, not like I’m doing much else,” he replied slightly bitter, gesturing towards his wheel chair. Peter stared at him, suddenly curious.   
“Your legs, can you walk on them?” he asked, staring intently at the intricate technology.   
Rhodey sighed, suddenly looking years older.   
“I can, but I’m still getting the hang of it. Using the wheel chair is just easier for now,” Rhodey murmured. He took a large scoop of ice-cream and put it in his mouth. Even adults need ice cream sometimes.  
“I’m just glad Tony built me the legs.”  
Peter hummed in agreement.   
“Yeah, dad is pretty cool,” he said sincerely.   
Rhodey’s eyes widened, and then he smiled softly. Peter didn’t even realise what he said.  
“Yeah, he is pretty cool.”  
With that, they finished Peter’s paper together. And the ice cream.   
Tony was really confused when he came an hour later back to find Peter and Rhodey passed out around the table surrounded by ice cream tubs.   
He scratched his head in befuddlement.   
“FRIDAY, what the heck happened?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment your favourite ice-cream flavour! :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fight against robots, what could possibly go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for the ate update, please enjoy!

This was the moment he had being waiting for.   
After weeks, and weeks of waiting… finally! 

Mr Stark invited him into battle. 

His phone had ringed around quarter to three in the afternoon. It was Happy, telling him gruffly to ‘suit up and get over here’

He had never suited up faster in his life. 

Peter swung through the streets of New York in record time, eager to get into the fight. This time round he’s going to prove himself worthy, he can feel it. Fighting side-by-side wit his mentor? The perfect chance to show Mr Stark that he’s not a kid anymore. Although it would help if he could get there a bit faster.

“Spider-Man, how far away are you?” Tony asked, sounding stained. Through the comm he could hear a repulsed blast, shooting at the enemy. Peter narrowed his eyes in determination, doubling his efforts.   
“I’m almost there, what are we fighting anyway?” Peter questioned, leaping off the side of a building.   
“Robots kid, we’re fighting robots!” Through the comm, he could hear the sounding of a struggle.  
“Strong robots,” he added tightly.   
Peter felt unease bubble in the pit of his stomach but he pushed it back. He had no time to wste on nerves. 

A thrill of adrenaline sped through his veins when he spotted the fight. Iron Man was easy to spot, bright red and gold, and he was surrounded by a hoard of large, lethal robots.   
It wasn’t going to be an easy fight.   
“Karen,” Peter demanded, “what’s their weapons?”   
The lens zoomed in on the robots and scanned their armor. In a mere moment a diagram of the robots weaponry systems appeared, and the weak spots in their armor.   
“The robots seem to be equipped with tasers, projectile weapons and sharp spikes. I advise caution,” Karen informed him. Peter winced in phantom pain, he can already feel the bruises.   
There's no turning back now. 

Peter felt his heart stop when Iron Man was hit by a taser. The suit jolted and sparks flew out, making Peter’s eyes widen in shock.   
“Mr Stark!” He shouted out, heart pounding with worry.   
“I’m fine kid, but get in here!” He yelled back. Iron Man wrestled with the robot that tasered him, the shot it though the head.  
“Here I come!”   
In a smooth motion, Peter leaped gracefully into the air and roundhouse kicked a robot, sending it flying into a wall. It didn't get back up.   
He charged to another, dodging its spike. Peter punched it, leaving a sizeable dent in its side. 

Two down, twenty to go. 

“How are you going?” Peter asked in mid kick. He ducked under a sharp looking projectile and barrel rolled under charging robot. Peter couldn’t help but grin; fights always made him feel alive. Every time he engaged in combat, the spider side of him came alive and hummed with energy. It was like using his powers soothed him, in a way. If you take out the stress and guilt complexes, that is.   
He should probably tell Mr Stark that.   
“Spider-Man,” Tony chided, ”shush shush. No talkies, remember?”   
Since the incident, Mr Stark had been trying to drill into him that he should talk less when fighting. He would, if Mr Stark would do the same.   
“Sorry,” Peter replied unapologetically, he would probably talk again later. 

The hoard of robots remained strong and dangerous, no matter how many they disabled. For his first official battle, it was intense.   
Suddenly Peters spider sense screamed at him to MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE! Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a projectile heading strait for his head.   
Time seemed to slow.   
He had only a matter of seconds before it would reach him.   
Using all of his momentum, he twisted in mid air and threw his head backwards, watching with wide eye as the projectile missed his head by a hair. 

Time sped up and he clattered to heavily to the floor, landing with an ‘oof’. He had no time to recover, rolling over to miss a taser aimed at his left side. His heart was beating loudly in his ears, blood thrumming though his veins.   
He had come so close to dying.   
This wasn’t as easy as he imagined.  
His breathing was ragged as he sprung up, narrowly missing a spike.   
“Peter,” Karen said, sounding distant, “your heart rate has dramatically elevated.”  
He smoothly ripped apart an oncoming robot, and complexity ignored Karen's warning. 

He had work to do. 

Peter flipped over a duo of robots and swiftly tied them up using his webs. To his left, a robot exploded from a small missile, the sound vibrating through his ear canal.  
Sounds were usually loud… but when he was in a battle, everything seemed dialed up. 

Through the edge of his vision, Peter saw Iron Man take down a robot, blasting it into pieces. He smiled under his mask; Iron Man is just so cool! Not that he’s ever going to tell Mr Stark that. He’d never hear the end of it.   
The smile was wiped off Peters face as his blood grew cold. There, right behind Iron Man, was a robot. It was aiming a huge, sharp, projectile at his back, and he had no way to know that it was there. Not even the suit could stop a spike that big. 

It was like the world stopped moving. He could see the projectile spin towards Iron Man, its gleaming point aimed strait for his heart. 

He ran with speed he never knew what he was capable, a scream of horror passing his lips.   
This time he will not loose another person, this time he will not fail, even at the cost of his own life.   
The spike was spiraling towards Mr Stark’s heart, barley 1m away.   
He had a mere moment to make to stop it. 

Distantly he could he Karen screaming into his mask, telling him to stop, but it was like he was underwater. Sound was muted; he could only see Mr Stark about to die. 

So he jumped. 

Strangely it didn’t hurt. He didn’t feel as the spike pieced his amour, he didn’t feel it as it slid through his chest and he didn’t feel himself hit the ground.   
But he did hear the pure fear in Mr Starks scream

“Peter, NO!”   
The world was hazy, unfocused. Through blearily eyes he watched as Mr Stark aimed a missile at the robot, and watched it explode. He jumped out of the Iron Man suit, leaving it to fight the robots on auto pilot. It seemed to attack with vengeance. 

Tony knelt down next to Peter and frantically scanned his chest, staring at the spike sticking out of him in horror.   
“No… god no!”  
He put his hands on Peter’s chest attempting to slow the flow of blood. It only covered his hands in red.   
Seeing the despair on his idols face, Peter smiled gently with blood stained lips “S’kay Mr Stark, I saved you…”  
Tony shook his head in denial, tears flowing freely out of his eyes.   
“Kid-Peter, stay awake! Stay awake, okay?” his voice cracked at the end, eyes shining with desperation. He was shaking his head, breathing in choked gasps. He scrambled for his cell phone, streaking the screen with blood.   
“Don’t go,” Peter mumbled sleepily. He felt so tired… he didn’t want to die alone.   
Tony grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight, tears falling onto Peter’s face.   
“Okay, I wont go. But only if you promise to stay, right? You have to stay Peter!” Tony pleaded, “I can’t loose you!”   
Peter coughed, blood dribbling down his chin. He laughed sadly, closing his eyes.   
“’Sorry Mr Star’.. I’m so tired,” he mumbled. He shuddered, coughing up more blood.  
It was time for him to go.   
Tony grabbed Peter’s shoulders and shook them gently, sobbing hard.   
“Peter, no! Open those eyes Peter, open them!” he sobbed desperately.   
Peter took a gasping breath, finding it harder and harder to breathe. “I’m sorry dad, I’m sorry…”  
He could hear Mr Stark crying, and yelling at the medics over his phone to ‘hurry the hell up’. The world was becoming faint, and he could hardly hear anything anymore. It was terrifying.   
But he wasn’t going to die alone.   
He could still feel Mr Starks hand on his own, gripping tightly, never wanting to let go.   
Even as he lay there, trembling, he could feel his hand.   
It was the last thing he felt before he was consumed by darkness.   
And he felt no more.

 

Waking up was strange this time. His limbs felt heavy, like they were weighed down by weights. Breathing was… strange. Like he wasn’t used to it.   
Normally his alarm clock would wake him up, but this time it was a steady beep.   
Over  
And  
Over  
Again  
It actually sounded really familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Slowly his other senses returned. He could feel the sheets, smell disinfectants and hear faint whirring of machinery.   
Where on earth was he?   
Peter strained to open his eyes, using way more effort than he should. Slowly, he moved his hands, attempting to feel more of what’s around him. Because really; not knowing where he is was freaking him out a tad.   
To his left he could hear someone breathing softly. In a mild panic, he struggled to open his eyes, desperately wanting answers to what on earth was going on.   
“Peter?”  
Peter relaxed instantly, knowing that he was safe. He knew that voice! It was Mr Stark, who was for some reason by his bedside (or was it even a bed?).   
Mr Stark spook in a soft and hopeful voice, he could imagine him with soulful eyes and somber expression.   
“Move your fingers if you can here me, Underoos.”  
He could hear him just fine now, it was just his fingers weren’t cooperating. It is harder to move them than that time he got his hands stuck in a huge glob of web fluid, and that was pretty difficult.   
If Peter could talk, he would of shouted in frustration. He wanted to sit up and tell Mr Stark that he was ok, but instead he was stuck trying to get his fingers to twitch. And why did his chest hurt?  
He wanted answers, but it felt impossible to get them.   
“I believe in you,” Mr Stark whispered, voice heavy with emotion.   
He knew that he couldn’t give up; he had to move. If not for him then for Mr Stark. 

His fingers twitched. 

“Peter!”  
Then he opened his eyes.   
Immediate he regretted his decision, it was bright. The light shone harshly into his eyes making him squint.   
He groaned in protest, sluggishly turning his head to the side, giving him a perfect view of the rumpled form of Tony Stark. Mr Stark looked like he just walked strait out of hell, hair disheveled and face pale. Peter creased his brows in worry.   
“Are you okay, Mr Stark?”   
He let out a wry laugh, “I should be asking you that.”   
Peter surveyed the room, noticing the white everything (seriously, no colour) and the medical equipment attached to various places in his body.   
“What happened?” He asked with wide eyes. He remembered nothing, he has absolutely no idea why he is a hospital.   
Tony leaned forwards in his chair, a tired smile on his face. “Do killer robots ring a bell?”  
It was like a switch had been flicked.   
All at once memories struck him like arrows. He remembered the robots, the fight… getting impaled. 

Right, that was probably it. 

Clumsily Peter tugged back the sheets, anxious to see the damage. He took a sharp intake of breath, noticing that his chest was like a train wreck. His chest was wrapped in bandages, multiple drips and pipes entering his skin and the bandages were stained red with dry blood.  
It was bad.  
“You've been asleep for an entire week, incase you’re wondering,” Tony said sarcastically, “You know, no biggie.”  
Peters face drained of what colour he had left.  
“I had an assignment due! And Aunt May! She’s going to kill me!” He said panicked. The beeping of his heart monitor sped up, showing just how terrifying his aunt can be. Seriously, she could glare a criminal into submission.   
Tony immediately put a hand on Peters shoulder and looked him in the eye.   
“I called in your school. And your hot aunt is asleep in a guest room if your wondering,” he soothed. Guest room?   
Peter looked out the window. He was in Stark tower apparently.   
Tony seemed to age 10 years as he sunk back onto his chair. He sighed deeply and tugged at his hair.   
“Kid,” he said softly, “don’t jump in front of me again, ok?”   
Tony looked every bit his age, and at that moment, the most serious he’s ever seen him.   
Peter bit his lip,”I’ll try.”  
No, he wouldn't. He would jump every single time. By the looks of it, Tony knew that to.   
“You scared us. I thought you were going to die; there was so much blood…” his voice cracked at the end, and he wiped his eye inconspicuously.   
He remembered Mr Stark crying, yelling for the medics and holding his hand, never letting go.   
He was glad he didn’t, dying alone sounded terrifying.   
“Sorry,” Peter mumbled, he didn’t mean to scare him like that. It's not like he wanted to die anyway, he just didn’t want Mr Stark to die.   
Tony grinned warily, “Tell that to Rhodey, Happy and Ned,”   
Shoot.   
Rhodey and him had gotten pretty close; he was practically an uncle now. And Happy… that's not going to be fun. Ned’s probably going to have a heart attack, MJ might skin him alive.   
Peter cringed, then winced in pain at the movement.   
“A pieced lung, nicked heart, broken ribs, blood loss, infection… you should be dead.” Tony listed steadily, although his eyes spoke volumes on how anxious he was.   
“Nobody recovers from a pierced heart, luckily your spider healing went into overdrive. We had to use elephant medicine on you, even then it had worn off after an hour,”  
Tony stared at him in rgret, “I thought I was going to watch you die,”   
Guilt settled in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t consider what his actions would do, and by the sounds of it, he nearly destroyed his mentor. Still better him than Mr Stark.   
“How long will I be in here?” He asked, looking around at the dreary room. Don’t get him wrong, it’s great that he is alive, but a little colour wouldn’t hurt.   
Tony raised his eyebrows, ”Already going stir crazy? Considering your healing, you can get out in two days, then rest in bed for a week.”   
Peter groaned in reluctance, “A week?”  
That's way to long! He needs to get his homework form school…  
Tony nodded, “Your aunt said you could stay in the tower for a while,” he leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands, “now that your rooms done.”   
Huh? What room?   
Tony saw his confusion and chuckled.   
“You've been staying in Stark tower for a while now, so you have a fully furnished room with a bathroom in both the tower and the compound.”  
Peters jaw dropped in astonishment. This was his childhood dream (sorta).   
He had his own room in Stark tower! If he didn’t have a hole in he a chest then he would be jumping around the room in joy.   
Speaking of his chest…  
“Will it scar?” He asked shyly. He already had enough differences between him and the rest of the school. If his year saw a scar over his heart… yeah that wouldn't be fun.   
Tony nodded, and unbuttoned his shirt. He pointed to where his arc reactor used to be, right wear a large scar was.   
“Practically in the same spot mine is, although yours will be messier,” he told him.   
Peter cocked his head to the side. Matching scars, it didn't sound that bad. At least they match now.   
Suddenly, Peter yawned, his injury catching up on him. He felt tired, like he couldn’t keep awake any longer. His eyes started to slide shut without his consent, much to his annoyance. He felt like he could hibernate and still be tired.   
“Tired,” he managed to mumble.   
He heard some shuffling, probably Mr Stark standing up.  
“Get some sleep, kid,” he whispered. He heard footsteps heading to the door.  
“Love you,” he muttered.   
A moment of silence passed, and Peter was nearly asleep.  
“Love you to, Underoos.”   
The door closed, but Peter felt like a million others had opened.   
It was funny what being impaled could give you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it :)  
> Feel free to review, they're always appreciated!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just another chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys. I am so sorry for the delay, I was just really busy.  
> Hope you enjoy this chapter.
> 
> Special thanks to everyone who commented and left a kudos, they really mean a lot to me! :)

Once again, homework dominated his free time.

His teachers didn’t seem understand that they might only give him 2 hours of homework a night, but every other teacher does as well.  
Luckily for him he now had one epic study space. 

Two days after he recovered from being impaled in the medical center, Tony showed him to his own bedroom.  
It was honestly amazing.  
He had one wall that was pure windows, giving him an amazing view of the city. If he asked FRIDAY the windows would become opaque so no light would come through. For the first time in his life, he had a king sized bed. It was huge; he could go swimming in it. His room had loads of space, so Mr Stark added a hammock, a large bookcase, a walk in wardrobe, a giant walk in bathroom (the bath is to die for) and a secret compartment to put his Spider-Man suit in. 

He literally bounced of the walls when he was shown his room; Mr Stark even filmed it for proof. And he knows that’s going to come back and haunt him one day. 

His desk was now the best place in the world to do his homework. Not only did it offer amazing views, but it was large enough to contain all of his clutter without being hazardous. His old laptop mysteriously disappeared overnight and was replaced with a top of the line Stark Top.  
Its not that his old laptop was bad, it’s just this one doesn’t take ages to turn on and doesn’t turn off randomly. So yeah, the new laptop is sweet. 

Homework still sucked though. 

Having a whole new room doesn’t change what has happened though. Every time he changes clothes, its still a shock to see scar tissue over his chest. If he was being honest, he wouldn’t be able to tell you how he survived.  
Although being stabbed in the chest does have issues. For one thing: school. Swimming with his classmates (besides Ned) is out of the question. He could wear a rashie, but he’s going to take a blessing when he sees one.  
On his bed rest days, Aunt May came to visit him. For half an hour, she cried and made him promise never to scare her like that again.  
Not that he ever planed to get impaled again, because it did nearly kill him.  
But the shock was there. Seeing his Aunt actually cry in front of him… she has never done that before. He could only imagine what she would have done if he had really died. 

Tony Stark: genius, billionaire, philanthropist, has become a permanent part of his life. Every morning that he stays over food is on the table and they eat together. They often work down in the labs together, trading stories and cracking jokes.  
They’ve watched Star wars, done homework, tried and failed to bake a cake (somehow the actual bowl went through the celling. Yeah, he doesn’t how either) and lots of other freakily domestic things together.  
Somewhere between being impaled and now him and Tony Stark have become close. It feels…nice. 

Nicer than his assignment does anyway. 

Peter idly chewed at his pen, the tip of it becoming a squished mess. Blue ink bubbled at the tip and he watched it with bored fascination.  
Maybe he go visit Mr Stark, one distraction won’t hurt (he says that every time). After all he is in the same building, and its not like he’s actually going to finish his homework.  
Would he?  
Actually no, he wouldn’t. Off to procrastinate and see Mr Stark it is. 

In a fluid motion he back flipped off his chair, relishing the freedom he has with his powers. In the tower he can crawl across the celling all he wants, as long as he stays in private areas he can use his powers.  
The feeling is like taking a bite of an enchanted apple, refreshing and exciting. 

“Can you take me to the floor Mr Stark is on?” he asked FRIDAY politely, “I promise I will finish my work later.”  
He flashed his cutest smile, the one Mr Stark says would cause even Loki to cave.  
If he didn’t annoy him to death first, of coarse.  
FRIDAY responded by sliding the elevator doors closed and going up to the communal floor. The communal floor is basically a kitchen, theatre, games room, and a dining room; things like the pool, spa and exercise rooms are on different floors. 

Billion airs are weird.

The door opened with a soft ‘ping’, revealing the homey looking lounge room in front of him.  
His enhanced hearing could pick up the muffled sound of the TV playing a movie.  
Peter’s eyes lit up with excitement as he realised that the movie was Tarzan, a broad smile spreading across his face. He could remember watching Tarzan as a kid; it was his favourite. He still watched it actually… Disney rocks.  
He quietly padded through the rooms, his footsteps nearly silent.  
“Here coooomes Spiderman!” he whispered giddily, remembering the tune a busker played at a train station.  
Its always nice to meet a fan, even if he’s not in uniform. 

The smile slipped off his face when he saw the hunched form of Tony Stark, staring blankly at the TV.  
Something was wrong.  
Peter walked cautiously over to Tony and stopped a few feet in front of him, staring at his unblinking eyes.  
“Mr Stark,” he asked worriedly, “are you ok?”  
Tony stared straight ahead as though he didn’t hear him, completely absorbed in his thoughts. It was almost like he wasn’t home.  
He felt nervousness bubble in the pit of his stomach; he bit his lip in worry. What do you do in these situations? Do you call someone… are you the person that people would call?  
Peter reached out a hand to put on his shoulder. “Mr Stark?” 

If he didn’t have super senses, he would have been punched in the face. 

Tony’s body snapped into motion, his fist flying towards Peters face like lightning. On instinct Peter swung to the side, eyes widening in surprise.  
Something was defiantly wrong.  
“Mr Stark?!” he squeaked, peering nervously at the fist he narrowly avoided.  
His voice seemed to snap him out of it.  
Tony’s eyes focused and widened with horror when he realized whom he tried to punch.  
“Kid?” he whispered with a tight voice, “What are you doing here?”  
Peter fiddled with the hem of his sleeve and looked at his shoes shyly.  
“I came to visit you, sorry if I bothered you,” he apologised quietly, “I just came to take a break from my homework but I can go back if you want.”  
Peter felt anxious, he didn’t mean to make Mr Stark attack him, he was just worried for him. He doesn’t want to be hated.  
Peter shuffled around slowly to leave, but before he could go Tony grabbed onto his arm desperately and pulled him towards the lounge.  
If he wanted to he could have thrown him across the room with a flick of his arm, instead he allowed himself to be guided to the lounge. Trust goes both ways after all.  
“Kid-Peter- I’m sorry,” he said thickly, “I didn’t recognize you for a second.”  
Tony laughed bitterly and turned his gaze towards Peter, “I just mess everything up, don’t I?”  
Peter sunk down next to Tony and stared at him confusedly.  
“What do you mean?”  
Tony shifted in his seat and ran a hand through his hair, visibly sinking into his seat.  
“Every thing I try to do ends up going to hell, “he said tiredly, “Making weapons, Ultron,… the accords.”  
Tony’s voice cracked as he said the last one and he rested his head in his hands.  
His voice was muffled as he spoke again, “All I ever do is ruin things.”

Peter closed his eyes in pain; it hurt to see Mr Stark like this. To Peter he was invincible, a hero. It shook him to see that he was as human as he was.  
Peter shook his head disbelievingly, “No Mr Stark, you don’t ruin everything.”  
Tony turned to face Peter and smiled sadly.  
“If only that was true Underoos.”

Peter set his lip in a thin line and crossed his arms.  
“Are you saying that I’m a mistake?”  
Tony’s head shot up and his jaw dropped open in surprise.  
“What-no! What gave you that idea?” he said shocked, “Of coarse your not a mistake!”  
Peter shrugged his shoulders.  
“Why?”  
Tony spluttered and blinked, trying to answer the strange question.  
“Because you make life better for people, not worse!”  
Peter stared Tony directly in the eye.  
With a soft but strong voice he told Tony what he needed to hear.  
“I make things better because of you. I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t, I would still be fighting crime in tracky’s. You tried to make life better with Ultron and the accords… it’s not your fault, sometimes things happen beyond our control.”  
A moment passed.  
“It was never your fault, it’s a bit of everybody.”

Peter’s heart tugged painfully as a lone tear slid down Tony’s cheek which was wiped away instantly.  
“Mr Stark,” he said softly, “you gave me so much. Please don’t hurt yourself like this… I need you.”  
Tony laughed tearily and pulled Peter into a tight hug, circling his arms around him like he never wanted to let go.  
“I need you to, kid.”

Peter clung to Tony and nestled his head into his neck, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. It sounded like home.  
“Why were you sad?” Peter asked quietly, pulling away from Tony’s embrace.  
Tony shifted in his seat uncomfortably and patted his eyes, trying desperately to look cool.  
“Well…”  
He slumped back and gave up his weak façade.  
“Its Rogers. He’s been pardoned form the accords.” 

Oh.  
That explains quite a lot.  
“What does this mean for you?” he questioned in concern.  
Sighing, Tony wrung his hands together nervously, as if he was expecting something to jump out at him any second.  
“Things happened during the incident, and I’m not sure I’m ready to face them.”

Peter tilted his head inquisitively, still feeling concerned for his mentor.  
“Face what?”  
Any remaining signs of lightness drained from Tony’s’ face as he fiddled with his watch.  
“Rogers and his merry band of fugitives… they’re coming back to the compound.”

Peters eyes widened in shock. No wonder Mr Stark was upset!  
He would be to if his friend turned enemy had to live in the same block, let alone building.  
But why was he letting them? He’s sure that they were international fugitives yesterday. Besides from that, they’d hurt him. They shouldn’t have to go anywhere near him if peter had any say in the matter. 

Peter must have been wearing a sour face because Tony shook his head in resignation.  
“Its not just them Peter, I did some bad things too.” he told him.  
Tony glanced down at his lap and closed his eyes. 

“That doesn’t make it any easier though.”

The concept completely baffled Peter. What sort of bad things?  
The world was becoming more and more complex by the second. He thought that Captain America did all the wrong, but if he didn’t, who was to blame for the civil war?  
Aunt May had told him that they were all acting like overgrown children, he can’t help feel like she was right. 

“But the accords…they were good, right?” he asked anxiously. Peter chewed on his lower lip, trying to make sense of the chaotic truth revealed to him. It didn’t work.  
As soon as he asked the question Tony slumped further back into the lounge, staring despondently at the floor .  
“I don’t know anymore. I thought they were good but after the raft and a few new legislations… it seems that the great Tony Stark stuffed up once again.”  
It was easy to see that he was hurting on the inside. 

Peter gripped Tony’s fore arm and met his gaze.  
“No, you didn’t stuff up. You tried to do what you thought would save as many lives possible, but it turned against you,” Peter consoled, “You’re a millionaire, not a magic man.”  
Tony shook his head wordlessly, his eyes telling him more than words ever could. 

He didn’t believe that the accords weren’t his fault. 

Somehow, that hurt Peter far more than being impaled did. It wasn’t physical hurt, it was the type of hurt that you get when someone close to you is teetering at the edge of a cliff, one step until they fall.  
He wasn’t going to let him fall, not after everyone else did.  
It might destroy him. 

“I believe in you,” Peter whispered almost silently. He knew Mr Stark heard him if the sharp intake of breathe was anything to go by.  
Tony shook his head miserably, “You really shouldn’t.”  
He will though, he’s believed in him since he watched the Stark expo on TV as a kid. And that’s not going to change anytime soon.  
Now he just has to make Mr Stark believe in himself too.  
It’s going to take work, especially with Captain America and his friends coming back, but he can do it.  
If you take off the genius, sarcastic exterior than you see who he really is.  
You see tiny glimpses of truth in the media when they’re not printing rubbish. ‘Tony Stark donating to charity’, ‘Tony Stark saved lost boy’ and so on.  
But if you look closely you can see he’s caring, shy and contradictorily to popular belief, insecure. He didn’t give Peter a million dollar suit for nothing; it was because he cared. He might not be the most sensitive or emotional person, but if Tony Stark likes you then he will do anything for you.  
Most people take it as trying to buy them off, like the original Avengers team did. They mistook gifts of weaponry and housing as bribery.  
He’s got a family with Mr Stark, and nothing will ever take that away from him.  
All you have to do is read between the lines to see that he cares.  
But that is a conversation for another day. 

“Want some ice-cream?” he asked nonchalantly.  
Tony raised his eyebrows at the change of subject but shrugged his shoulders anyways.  
“Go for it.”  
Peter hopped off the lounge and started walking to the kitchen. Looking over his shoulder, he smiled cheekily.  
“Hope you like Boysenberry,” he laughed, and launched out of the room with the help of his powers.  
Tony’s eyes widened and he shouted out after him.  
“Kid, no! Not that fruity junk, gimme some real sugar!” he pleaded. Give him a break, he just had an emotion breakdown!  
Peters laughed echoed from the kitchen.  
“Sorry dad!” he shouted gleefully, “Its boysenberry or nothing!” 

The air was punched straight out of his lungs, but for some reason being called ‘dad’ didn’t bother Tony as much as it should have. It felt… right.  
It might be a terrible idea but he’s going to roll with it.  
“OK, but bring some brownie ice cream with you or I’ll sick FRIDAY on you,” he retorted.  
After a moment Peter padded back into the room, two cartoons of ice-cream in his had. Boysenberry in one hand and brownie in the other, just like he hoped.  
He plopped back onto the lounge and flashed Tony a blinding grin. He could almost feel the mischief rolling off of him.  
“So, Tarzan? I thought you were to old for this?”  
Needless to say Peter got a few pillows to the face before they could start their ice-cream.  
But that was ok.  
At that moment, all was right in the world. Steve Rogers could wait for another day.

...He should probably finish his homework though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it!
> 
> Don't forget to comment/kudos! 
> 
> :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long wait, but here it is! Double the length, too. :)

This was one of the crappiest Mondays he’s ever had. And believe me, he’s had his fair share of crappy Mondays.  
Sitting in the Avengers compound with an extra large large cup of coffee (ok, it may be spiked) might sound like the perfect morning, but today it is defiantly not the perfect morning.  
You see, one can only feel peaceful when they aren’t stressed. It just so happens that meeting with possibly hostile x-team member blows peace right out of the water. 

Steve. 

He was like a brother, a very head strong and stubborn brother that really didn’t trust him. Once, he was sure that Steve did trust him. Sure, they had a rocky start but they weren’t enemies or anything. 

The Sokovia Accords had changed everything. 

Now every time the name ‘Steven Rogers’ is uttered he can’t help the feeling of bitter disappointment rise like acid in his throat. He doesn’t understand what went wrong at first. Deep down he knows what went wrong.  
Nobody trusted him.  
Steve was supposed to trust him once upon a time. If he just talked to him, told him what the hell was happening then maybe, maybe, things would have turned out differently. Maybe they wouldn’t be fugitives and he wouldn’t be missing his team. 

It still hurt to think that the people who were almost a family turned their back on him so easily. Yeah, they weren’t that close. He was actually threatened and physically attacked a few times. But they had fought together, ate together and had drinks together. They where a team. 

To bad that didn’t mean a single thing. 

Flash forwards a few months and now you see him anxiously sitting in a meeting room like some kind of awkward trainee. Right now, he would not be what his father called a ‘Stark man’, because Stark men are always strong and emotionless. If his daddy dearest taught him anything it's Stark men don’t wait for people anxiously, people wait anxiously for them.  
Usually that comes back and bites him though, usually pretty hard. 

Tony massaged his forehead in an unsuccessful attempt to get rid of the growing headache. He’s been watching the clock change for 20 minutes; each tick sounds like thunder and adds another 5 kilos of weight onto his shoulders. Time is distorted in this room. The minutes blend together but the seconds seem to take years, the meeting creeps closer but at the same it feels like it will never arrive.  
It's incredibly frustrating that all he can do is wait. 

Granted, it would have been a heck of a better wait if he accepted Pepper’s or Rhodey’s invitation to wait with him. Right now it feels like he needs to be alone to gather his thoughts before the x avengers arrive. His brain is scrambled, the coffee and waiting combined hasn’t done very well for his mental health. Not to mention he knows that a fight will probably break out. You don't just put a bunch of super’s in a room and expect that they'll all agree, that’s an amateur mistake. Take it from him; he is a genius after all. Actually don't do that, the room would probably blow up knowing his luck. 

Unfortunately for him, time ran out and he didn’t have long left until they arrived. 

“Sir, the rouge avengers are at the gate of the compound. Shall I inform Pepper and Rhodey to enter now?” 

Tony stared at his remaining coffee than drained the entire cup in a single gulp.  
He’s going to need that caffeine.  
“Sure FRIDAY, just make sure Pepper and Rhodey get here before the others,” he replied, trying and failing to work up a bravo. His main objective- be a duck. It sounds stupid, like something that he might have done as a 12 year old. Strangely enough, it works.  
He is going to act like the stereotypical Tony Stark on the outside: cocky, arrogant and cool. If he does that then hey won’t see him freaking the flip out on the inside. For some reason he has a feeling it's all going to go to hell anyways, but that's what his therapist told him to do. 

Strong on the outside, hurt on the inside. 

He can do it. 

Probably. 

… He can try. 

An abrupt knock onto the door drew him out of his thoughts, drawing his eyes to the door sliding open.  
For a terrible moment he thought it might be Steve and he would have to be in the room with him alone with Steve, to his immense relief it was only Pepper and Rhodey. It was almost funny how he had mistaken her beautiful strawberry blonde hair for Steve's stupid hair of sunshine. Ever since he heard the news about the x-avengers he's been jumping at everything, half expecting a pair of super soldiers to be in the next room over.  
His therapist told him it was PTSD.  
Lovely. 

“Pepper, Rhodey,” he greeted tensely. He tried to smile but it came out more like a strained frown than anything.  
Pepper walked over and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Her heels went ‘click clack’ as she walked, the silence of the room made it deafening.  
“It’s going to be alright Tony,” she comforted.  
On his other side Rhodey wheeled himself over and the offered his silent support. The wheel chair reminded him how much he had lost, its crazy how your best fried can be there one minute and in ICU the next. Meeting with the people that caused Rhodey’s injury was only a few minutes away and his anxiety was at its prime. It was like his chair was tipping over sideways and it never stops falling.  
Yeah, it does suck. 

Tony sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, his grip on the cup becoming white.  
“It's nearly time.”  
Peppers hand on his shoulder tightened, but this time it has Rhodey who tried to soothe him.  
“If it is nearly time then its nearly time for me to punch a super soldier in the face,” Rhodey said punching the air, lips pursed in sassy mock anger.  
Tony snorted, the mental image of Rhodey of all people punching an x hero in the face was just too funny, even if he did deserve it.  
“You can borrow my gauntlet if you want,” he offered, gesturing at the band on his wrist. The band was a new tech he made, in a matter of a second it would unfold into a fully powered Iron Man gauntlet. He would use it for self defence in case things got a little too heated (actually he was scared but its not like he’s going to tell anyone that).  
Rhodey nodded gravely.  
”I think I will.”

His brief sense of peace was squashed by FRIDAY, the traitor.

“30 seconds.”

He gripped his empty mug and bit his lip. 

“20.”

By this time, he was a jittery mess. He was about to face his nightmares and he felt hopelessly unprepared despite the days he was spent making sure everything would turn out okay.  
He could have sworn his heart had stoped when the door slid open. There was Steve Rogers, clean-shaven as ever, like the American Golden Boy every single person thought he was. Behind him was Bird Boy the blind follower, Hawkeye, the new guy (bug man?), Wanda (he had once believed in her) and Natasha. Seeing Natasha was like a punch to the gut. Once, he had trusted her. Guess Tony Stark was just a tool to her as well; ready to discard as soon as he’s not useful anymore. 

Steve smiled tensely, blue eyes cold as ice.  
“Stark.”  
“Rogers,” he said curtly, casually leaning back into his chair. The others took that as their cue to find their own chair along the large meeting table. Team Cap, as the media called them, took up the entire left side. It was just him, Rhodey and Pepper on the right. 

For a moment nobody said anything, it was just tense staring. Even though nobody talked a thousand messages were leaping across the table.  
The most predominant- ‘We don’t trust you’.  
He could tell from there steel eyes that they weren't exactly happy about this either; they probably expected a set up from him.  
The thought shouldn't hurt him, but it did. Did they think he would sink so low that he would set them up in a peaceful meeting?  
Apparently they did.  
It made him think if they even knew him at all. 

It was Natasha that started a conversation since nobody else made the move. 

“Tony,” she greeted, flipping her curled red hair over her shoulder, “how are you?”  
Besides him he could see Rhodey bristle in indignation. They had no idea, did they?  
“Well,” Tony drawled, ”My therapist said I still have ‘problems’, but other than nightmares and an unhealthy amount of PTSD I’m as good as new.”

Team Cap shifted awkwardly in their seats, finding the ceiling a whole lot more entertaining to look at than him. Eh, he wasn’t supposed to say that anyway.  
He still needs to work on his word filter.  
He should probably keep the conversation going.  
“Did Wakanda treat you like kings or what?”  
Maybe a little bit smoother than that. 

Steve narrowed his eyes at the jibe, but other than that he did not react. So old dogs can learn new tricks.  
“No, we were treated like guests. But that's not what we came here to talk about, was it?”

Tony felt like running out of the room before it was too late, but there was only so long that you could run away from your problems, even if he wanted to bury them and forget about them forever.  
Unfortunately there is no way he can bury this, it’s too big. 

“No, it's not. What was it again? Oh yes- the United Nations forcing me to take back the Avengers in my compound,” he said offhandedly, “That's what we were going to pointlessly argue about, right?”  
Tony felt Pepper and Rhodey shift uneasily besides him as the rogue avengers straightened up and squared their shoulders, preparing for a fight to break out. He can’t blame Pepper and Rhodey for being nervous; they are under gunned after all. 

Steve stared him straight in the eye determinedly, “I didn’t come here to argue, but if you’re up for it I’ve got all day.” Steve folded his arms tightly across his chest. It made him look big and intimidating, not that he was intimidated or anything. He just happened to have nightmares about Steve smashing a shield into his arc reactor, no biggie. 

His façade of cool and calm was on the verge of dissolving, the cracks in his wall barricading his emotions were getting steadily wider.  
Turns out anxiety completely turns off his verbal filter.  
Yi-pee. 

“All day huh? Goes to show how much the UN needs you if they can leave you around all day. I thought they would be sending you on your merry way to heroically stop another terrorist, then grovel at your feet in worship when you ‘accidently’ kill somebody,” he said disinterestedly, admiring his watch, “but then again, you’re the one blindly taking all the orders, aren’t you Rogers?” 

Team Cap reacted like sodium and water. Clint was angrily pointing his finger at him while yelling out something obnoxious, Sam was spitting out words in the defence of Rogers. Their furious expressions frightened him, no matter how many times he told himself that he is not afraid. It’s not like they tied to kill him or anything. He has to be stronger than that.  
They continued to shout and it seemed to get louder. Their yells blurring together and angry faces becoming out of focus. Breathing didn’t seem as easy as it was a few seconds ago, was it just him or was the oxygen thinning out? 

Steve’s cold face as he swung the shield at him flashed across his mind. 

He breathed out. 

The shouting of his former team members rang in his ears. 

He couldn’t breathe in. 

He needed to calm down now or he was going to have a panic attack in front of everybody and show them all how messed up he was.

Freaking perfect. 

“QUIET!!” 

If he wasn’t struggling to breathe he would’ve laughed at the dumbfounded expression on Steve’s face. It’s not everyday that Natasha Romanoff yells at her team leader.  
Calculatingly Natasha surveyed the room, eyes narrowed into angry slits.  
“We came here to discuss the arrangements, not argue,” she said quietly, words cutting through the silence like daggers. Her blue eyes made contact with his brown eyes, he quickly looked away. Her skill of seeing into his soul never failed to creep him out. 

Tony fiddled with his empty coffee mug as he made his statement, trying to hide the fact that his heart was pounding like a jackhammer.  
“Yeah, fine, lets discuss the arrangements. My conditions are the following: no battles in the compound unless it’s for training, ask me before you go to the weapon vault and no secrets.  
Capiche?” 

Team Cap looked at each other for a moment and then nodded. 

“We agree to those terms,” 

He felt like a weight was lifted off his chest. 

“But we also have our own.” 

Never mind, the weight is back. 

“What!” Rhodey shouted, outraged on the behalf of his friend, “You’re the one staying at Tony’s place! Not the other way around. You don’t get to make demands!” 

Sam shrugged his shoulders uncaringly, “Tell that to the UN.” 

Rhodey looked like he was about to explode from anger and start another shouting match, Tony sent him a look and he backed off. He can’t afford any more arguments, not the violent kind anyway; it’s already hard enough to talk to idiots. 

“Lay them on me.” 

Steve shifted in his seat, almost nervously. Steve Rogers was nervous, that can’t be good. No sir e.  
“Well,” he started, “we want to be able to leave the compound without permission-“  
That wasn’t so bad.  
“- and I want Bucky here.” 

Wait, what? Bucky?  
The room felt like the base they left him at in Serbia, the ice was creeping though his chest and chilling his blood.  
His whole world was frozen. 

“What the hell” he whispered, clenching the mug in an almost shattering grip, “did you just say?”  
Steve stared at him determinedly.  
“I want Bucky to be here.” 

Tony started laughing uncontrollably, an edge of hysteria in his voice. The sound bounced around the room, his laughter echoing eerily. Everyone glanced around uneasily, even Rhodey seemed put off.  
He didn’t miss how Natasha put her hand on her thigh holster.  
“You want my parents murder to live in my home?” he asked incredulously, “You expect me give him food and shelter, while my parents are rotting in the ground 6 feet under!”  
Tony stood up, his chair grated against the floor noisily.  
“How dare you even ask me,” he seethed, clenching his fists at his side. 

Steve rolled his shoulders before getting up.  
“Stark, he’s my best friend,” he said intensely, “You can’t expect me to leave him.”  
He looked at him with big, blue eyes of innocence, but he knows its all bull.  
You can only cry wolf so many times before people stop believing in you. 

“You’re going to leave him in Wakanda.”

Steve shook his head, “No, I won’t leave Bucky!”  
Tony stalked around to the side of the table, meeting Steve head on. Steve’s face was a mask of frustration, he bets his own looks similar.  
“Well you going to have to buddy because he’s not coming here!”  
Steve’s eyes narrowed and he pressed his lips into a thin line.  
“Watch me.”  
Tony clenched his fist tighter.  
“Don’t. You. Dare.”

The rest of the room was holding their breathe. One wrong move and a fight would break out  
Steve stared down at him imposingly and shoved him, causing Tony to stumble back and brace himself against the wall.  
“You can’t stop me, Stark.”  
Tony’s world was caving in on its self. Not only was the man of his nightmares going to have to live with him, but his parent’s murderer would have to as well.  
It was infuriating and terrifying.  
Steve grinned bitterly, like a shark.  
“You have no power-“ 

SLAP!

A red handprint covered the left side Steve’s face as he stared at Pepper with wide eyes. She towered imposingly despite being shorter, glaring daggers at Steve.  
“Excuse you! “She said disbelievingly, “You ignorant excuse of a hero!” 

He would have laughed at everyone’s slack jawed expressions if he wasn’t so shocked himself.  
“How dare you! You nearly kill Tony in freaking Serbia and give him an extra large bucket of PTSD, then you expected to live with him! To make it worse you want his parents murder to come to!”  
Pepper was a fiery ball of rage, her red hair matching her temperament. Steve flinched under her angry gaze; he couldn’t bring himself to feel sorry for him.  
He did deserve it.  
“You are all acting like two year olds!”  
Tony snorted, but quickly tried to cover it with a cough when Pepper’s glare was directed at him.  
Once again she turned her gaze to Steve, his shoulders were getting smaller and smaller as he lost confidence.  
“Apologise Steve,” she demanded, crossing her arms firmly over her chest.  
Steve looked offended and tried to refuse, “But-“  
“NOW!”  
“Ok, ok, ok!” he said quickly, “I’ll apologise!” 

Steve drew in a deep breath.  
“Stark-“ Steve coughed when Peppers glare became even more ferocious, “Tony then, I’m sorry.”  
Pepper raised a perfectly arched eyebrow, “For?”  
Steve looked at her pleadingly; in return she stood even straighter and narrowed her eyes.  
Steve sighed sufferingly.  
“I’m sorry for being insensitive and rude?” he said, drawing the words out like it physically pained him to say it.  
Pepper nodded in acceptance, “Thank you.”  
He was about to turn around and go sit back down when she turned to face him.  
Damn.  
This can’t be good.  
“Tony,” she said sweetly, brushing a stray hair out of her eyes, “You can apologise too!”  
Tony blinked in surprise.  
“Huh?”  
“Apologise, Tony.”  
“What, why?” he spluttered, “Why should I apologise?!”  
He did nothing wrong! Sort of, but it’s not like he wants Steve’s parents murderer to share a house with him!  
“Because that’s what grown men do. Now Tony!” she said firmly, no room for argument. If there was an argument he’s sure he would loose, even if he was Iron Man.  
He gulped and loosened his collar. Pepper can be scary when she wants to be, maybe he should take her to scare super villains into submission?  
“Rogers-“ Pepper growled, “-Steve, I’m sorry,” he said curtly. ‘Sorry’ was a foreign phrase in his mouth; it tasted bitter sweet. Pepper nodded approvingly at him, a tiny smile gracing her face. 

“Now was acting like adults so hard, boys?” she asked mildly. Steve and Tony shook their heads; they were not going to risk angering her.  
Pepper looked at them approvingly, “Go sit down and discuss the terms like men,” she commanded, pointing towards their empty chairs.  
The walk back to his chair was odd, not only did Pepper own him in front of everybody but Pepper managed to shut everybody else up as well. It’s the first time he had seen Barton completely flabbergasted, not even aliens could do that.  
If he wasn’t so shocked himself he would of made fun of how big his eyes were. 

He slunk down into his chair, taking in the baffled silence of the room. It’s a nice change to be honest; he should take Pepper to Avengers meetings more often.  
Of coarse it was Barton who broke the silence. 

“Whoa, Steve! You got whipped by Pepper!” Clint laughed, “Both of you are wimps!”  
Someone cleared their throat at the table, it was Pepper, and she didn’t look very impressed if her glare was anything to go by.  
Clint put his head down and fiddled with his hands, the glare of death over powered him too.  
“Sorry,” he said meekly.  
Pepper nodded in acceptance then looked at everybody expectantly.  
“Well?” she questioned, “Get going,”  
There was a brief period of awkward silence before Tony rolled his eyes and started a conversation.  
Let’s just get it over with.  
“Ok, we will talk about Bucky later. I have one more condition,” he said firmly, “General Ross or any of those his followers are not allowed on the premises at any given time. I don’t trust them.”  
He waited for an argument, but to his relief no one objected.  
Instead, it was Natasha who spoke up.  
“I agree,”  
Tony’s eyebrow went high on his forehead and his jaw dropped.  
“FRIDY, please tell me you got that on recording! The Natasha Ramanoff just agreed with me! This is amazing, lets all just take a second to appreciate-“  
Sam cut him off, “Yeah, we get it man.”  
Tony shrugged his shoulders uncaringly. “Doesn’t stop it from being any less amazing, you party pooper.”  
Natasha, who looked very amused in her own super secret assassin way, looked more comfortable, less likely to shoot him. Maybe it’s because everybody cough Steve cough isn’t defensive anymore.  
To bad it wasn’t destined to last. 

“Sir, Peter is approaching the compound.” 

His good mode evaporated and was replaced with bubbling panic.  
Shoot, he wasn’t supposed to be here today! Wait, didn’t he tell Peter to come over for the weekend a while ago?  
Crrrraaaaaaaaaapppppppppp.  
Rhodey was looking uneasy; he was gripping the bars of his wheel chair tightly. Good thing he reinforced it because the bars probably would have broken by now.  
He had to go, like right now. 

“Sorry guys, I’m going to have to cut this short. Addio!”  
He jumped out of his chair and started walking quickly to the door, but Natasha blocked him. She looked at him, analysing every part of his facial expression.  
Great.  
“Look, Natasha, I have to go so can you move?” he said distractedly, fiddling nervously with the hem of his shirt.  
She narrowed her eyes, “Who is Peter?”  
Crab, this is not going well.  
“Uh- he’s… Rhodey and Pepper can explain!” he answered, “Now let me through!”  
From their seats, Rhodey and Pepper nodded. Thank god he has someone on his side. The Avengers looked at him weirdly, even Wanda, who had been silne the whole time, looked confused.  
Luckily for him Natasha stepped out of the way, but he didn’t stick around to say thanks.  
He had to find the kid before someone did

“FRIDAY,” he question, briskly walking throughout the halls, “Got his location?”  
It took a moment before the disembodied voice answered from the ceiling.  
“He is coming towards you.”  
“What!” he whisper yelled,” Not good, damn it! Tell him to go the other way!”  
Why today?! He could have came over tomorrow and it would have been just fine. Curse his luck.  
“He ignored your instructions. Shall I tranquilise him?”  
Tony shook his head frantically. When did he even put tranquilisers in FRIDAYS code?  
“What?! Don’t tranquilise him! How far away is he?” Tony asked hysterically, wildly jogging down the halls. He’s going to have to delete the footage; he must look like an idiot. And nobody can see him look like an idiot… except for Pepper. That’s normal.  
“Two halls down.” 

Damn it! That is way too close to the avengers! 

“Tell him to stay where he is, I’m coming to him!”  
He ran around another corner, and then collided with something- or someone. He ignored the throbbing of his fore head in favour of checking hat on earth he just ran into.  
It was Peter, thank god. Gold star if you guessed it.  
The poor kid looked as bright and happy as ever dressed in his nerdy tee shirt and old jeans.  
“Hi Mr Stark!” he said brightly, “How are-is everything ok?” he questioned, an adorable look of confusion on his face.  
Tony started pushing the other way.  
“Everything is fine Peter,” he assured, “We just need to go that-a-way,” he said, pointing own the way Peter came.  
Peter tilted his head as he was moving, “Why?”  
He was about to answer when FRIDAY delivered the bad news once again.  
“The Avengers are one corridor away.”  
Tony pulled a face and started shoving Peter harder. This is so not part of todays plan.  
“That’s why, and new plan. Get into the broom closet,” he demanded. Peter looked astonished, forehead crinkled as he looked at him weirdly.  
“The avengers-what?”  
He pulled open a door to a nearby broom closet and started pushing Peter in faster despite his confused struggles. He could hear their footsteps coming and he was so not ready for this.  
He slammed the door just in time for the Avengers to come around the corner, all of them.  
Damn it, he could swear fate really doesn’t like him.  
“Tony?” questioned Steve cautiously, “What’s going on?”  
Tony shot a small glare at Pepper and Rhodey who looked back at him sheepishly.  
Yeesh, you can’t even trust friends these days.  
“Oh-um- yeah- I had to get a, um, mop!” he said triumphantly, causally leaning against the door.  
He cringed internally, that was the worst excuse in history. By the looks of it everyone else thought it was to.  
Natasha raised her eyebrow.  
“Is that your backpack?”  
Backpack, what backpack- oh.  
Lying on the floor by his feet is Peter’s nerdy Star Wars backpack. He knew that thing would cause problems.  
“Yeah, it totally mine,” he said casually, trying desperately to play it cool. He picked it up and inspected it.  
“I just love this backpack!,” he said joyfully, the largest false smile on his face. He really needs to practise his skills; this is just pathetic.  
He started to swing it around casually when a book came flying out and hit Steve in the face.  
Whoops.  
Now he’s done it.  
Steve picked it up of the floor warily and flipped though the ratty pages, scepticism written all over his face.  
“English notes? Since when did you do English?”  
Sweat was pouring down the back of his neck and he wiped some off his brow.  
Was it hot in here or was it just him?  
“Oh you know me, I love English!” he said enthusiastically, sounding hopelessly fake to even his own ears.  
“Right…” Steve said sceptically, looking suspiciously from the book to Tony.  
By this point all the avengers looked at him weirdly, and Rhodey’s head was in his hands.  
Thanks for the support guys.  
The door started jolting forwards; he held it back with all of his strength. Damn kid isn’t making this easy.  
He must look really odd. Leaning against a door as it shook, holding a ratty Star Wars backpack in his arms.  
Totally nothing going on here.  
“What’s in the closet, Tony?” queried Natasha, watching the door jolt once again.  
Tony tried to strike a casual pose and failed miserably. He looked more like he was humping the door than anything.  
“Nothing, now leave before I get FRIDAY to tranquilise you!” he threatened them, tying his best to look dead serious.  
Clint crossed his arms.  
“Open the door.”  
Why didn’t he put locks on the doors again?  
“Uh- how ‘bout no?”  
He was met with blank stares. Great.  
The door jolted and he nearly lost his footing. He discreetly kicked the door, the shudders halted. He flashed a strained smile to Team Cap, hoping desperately that they would just flipping leave!  
The door stopped jolting for a whole 5 seconds.  
“My compound, my rules. Now leave- WHOA!” he cried out as the door was forcefully flung open, sending him flying ungracefully onto the floor.  
Damn it, stupid kid never listens.  
From the closet Peter emerged looking confused, tugging gently on his hoodie.  
“Mr Stark, what’s going on?”  
He eyed Team Cap warily, shuffling further away. At least he had the sense to do that.  
Team Caps’ jaws were so far open that they just about touched the floor.  
“Tony, who is this?” question Clint with a eye high-pitched voice. He was gaping at Peter with a shocked expression. What ever he expected to be in the closet, Peter clearly was not it.  
Even Steve, the unshakable golden boy, was staring at Peter dumb founded. The English book was forgotten in his large hands, he was to busy staring at Peters small frame. He could almost here the gears working in his head; they were probably rusty after all.  
Looking at the faces of Team Cap he knew he couldn’t hide it. With a long, suffering sigh he prepared himself for the announcement.  
“Listen up, this will not leave the room,” he demanded, eyeing the new guy especially closely, “Because this is Peter, and he needs to be safe.”  
Peter looked at him shyly, Rhodey looked like he might have a stroke.  
He couldn’t blame him, this was a completely life changing moment. The next sentence will change everything, for better or for worse he won’t know until the future. People might call him impulsive for saying this, and they’re right. He is a Stark after all.  
“And ‘who is Peter?’ you ask. Well, he’s my son.”  
The corridor was completely silent for about half a second before astonished questions were being thrown at him left and right, but it was all worth it to see Peter give him a blinding smile of pure joy. 

Sure, he had a crappy dad, and for a long time he was scared to be one himself. But he’s not scared anymore. Actually that’s a lie, he’s terrified.  
He’s never been a father and he didn’t have the best role model if you don’t count Jarvis.  
Deep down, he’s always known Peter was going to end up as his son, from the day he met him.  
It just took a few crazy adventures for him to accept that.  
For now though, he’s going to have to deal with a few crazy supers. He can tell Peter he loves him later.  
After all, he is his dad now. And that’s what dads do.  
Love their child. 

End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! :)  
> Thank you so much for your support, I love you guys!


	7. Update

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just saying

Hey, I had a request to post a chapter when I made the sequel. Here you go!


End file.
